Trying to Fly
by lehayim
Summary: The Order are shocked when Severus appears during the celebrations on the night of the final battle, having been confirmed dead. When an attack interupts, leaving Hermione blind and Severus disfigured, they must teach other how to feel again. HGSS
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The night of the final battle, after the students and their families had left Hogwarts to return home, the members of the Order of the Phoenix loitered in the Entrance Hall, unsure what to do with themselves now that everything was over and their organisation disbanded.

Several of the Professors trooped into the Entrance Hall after a visit to the kitchens.

"The house elves are bringing whiskey, wine, champagne, and anything else we want." Piped up Professor Flitwick. "Tonight is a celebration; do not grieve when there is so much to rejoice in. You are all welcome to stay at Hogwarts for as long as you wish."

Mr and Mrs Weasley excused themselves and returned to the Burrow, too caught up in their sorrow to celebrate, no matter how great the reason. George was nowhere to be seen; everyone assumed that he too had returned home.

The remainder of the large group returned to the Great Hall and fell upon the alcohol that the house elves had provided. Someone charmed music to play, and everyone grew merry on the alcohol.

Harry and Ginny sat in a corner talking quietly and not drinking anything, and George turned up during the evening and joined them. Tears trickling quietly down his cheeks, he picked up a bottle of whiskey and steadily made his way through it until he finally passed out on his chair. Ginny and Harry exchanged a quick glance, and summoned Madam Pomfrey to see him safely to bed in the hospital wing.

Lee Jordan was reminiscing about Fred with Kingsley, recalling their times recording 'Potterwatch' with Fred and George, and everything the pair had done to keep everyone's hopes up.

Minerva McGonagall and the other faculty members sat gathered around the Head Table, listening to Minerva's retelling again and again of how the students had risen against the Carrow's. The pride in her voice was clear for all to hear.

"You have taught them well." Professor Sprout agreed. "They will go into the world good people, after all they have seen tonight, and helped to fight against."

"We have all taught them well. We should all be proud of how our students rallied for the light tonight. As a Head of House, I feel a great satis – satisfaction in –"

Minerva's voice started to slur as the champagne she was drinking started to go to her head.

"Severus Snape, on the other hand." She snorted in derision. "If he weren't dead already it would give me great pleasure to curse him until he never saw the light of day."

"Stop it!" Harry had suddenly risen to his feet, as Minerva's words trickled into his conscious. "You have no idea what you are talking about."

Silence fell over the Hall as everyone turned to look at him, but for once Harry did not abhor the attention.

"Severus Snape's loyalties were true to the end. He was in love with my mother, and was on the side of the light since her life was first threatened at the very beginning."

Ginny did not look surprised; clearly this was what Harry had been explaining to her in their private corner. Everyone else in the Great Hall was shocked to the core.

"He killed Albus." Minerva hissed, struggling to prevent the tears which came unbidden to her eyes as she remembered her mentor and her friend.

Harry shook his head stubbornly.

"They had planned it from the beginning. Professor Dumbledore was already dying. I was there that night, and Professor Dumbledore had to beg Snape to do it. I only realised that he was begging for the end, and not to live, when I saw Professor Snape's memories earlier this evening after he died."

Minerva looked dumbstruck for a moment, before she continued. "Harry, you've suffered a great deal tonight, you don't know what you've seen. Professor Dumbledore was a great man, he would never have begged for death. Sit down, let me get you a drink."

"No!"

Minerva looked startled, as did everyone else in the Hall. Harry began to wish he didn't have an audience for this sudden outburst, but something was clawing at his insides, desperate for the truth to be known.

Ginny stood up next to Harry and placed a hand gently on his forearm, calming him without words. Harry took a deep breath.

"Professor Dumbledore was dying, I can say that with absolute certainty. He did not fear death. Everyone dies, it is just a matter of how and why. Let me show you!"

Using magic he did not know how he possessed, for he had never heard of it until it came unbidden to his mind, Harry pointed his wand at himself. The memories that he had seen in Professor Snape's pensieve were instantly amplified, in what was almost a giant bubble above Harry's head for everyone to see.

Shocked, Minerva fell back into her chair and fumbled for a sobering-up potion.

Severus' voice rang out, and several people jumped, despite knowing that this was his memory, and the man in question lay dead in the Shrieking Shack.

"_Are you intending to let him kill you?"_

"_Certainly not. You must kill me."_

Hagrid blew his nose loudly, and Professor Sprout patted him reassuringly on his gigantic arm. The spectators watched the scene play out, many looking aghast as Severus' true loyalties sank in.

"But – he was on You-Know-Who's side all year." Stammered Professor Sinistra.

Harry waved his wand again, letting his memories do the talking. An image of Severus in the Headmaster's office played before them, showing Professor Dumbledore's portrait giving him instructions to bring Harry the sword undetected.

When the memory was finished, everyone sat in stunned silence. Professor Vector reached for a bottle of whiskey and took a large swig straight from the bottle. Surprisingly, Neville was taking it all in his stride.

He jumped to his feet and clambered on to his chair and then stood on the table and raised his glass.

"A toast for Professor Snape, the hero behind the scenes, who died for the light."

Kingsley stood up first.

"To Professor Snape." He said in his gravelly tones.

Everyone else followed suit and stood up to drink a toast to the man.

Slowly, chatter began to return to the Great Hall, as everyone digested the news.

Hermione looked at Ron. They had already been told the truth about Severus by Harry, but it was still a shock to see the memories in person.

"No one has moved his body!" She gasped. "He still lies in the Shrieking Shack, and he should be here with Remus and Tonks and Fred, and everyone else. He deserves better than that!"

"Talking about me?" A hoarse voice interrupted, and Hermione looked up at the door and screamed. Everyone else's attention turned to the door, and more than one person shrieked as they took in the sight of Severus Snape leaning heavily against the doorframe, his hand held tightly to his neck. His pallor had taken on a greenish tinge, and he was clearly about to collapse.

"Where is Poppy?" He gasped, looking questioningly for the Medi-Witch. Poppy Pomfrey jumped to her feet and started to run across the Hall as Severus staggered several steps into the Hall and then collapsed.

Ron suddenly cried out in alarm and scrambled for his wand. Three masked Death Eaters were at the doors to the Great Hall.

"Enjoy your last moments together." One of them spat out.

Several people jumped at the sound of a female voice coming from beneath the horrific mask, and at once a dozen wands threw curses at the closing doors.

Kingsley bellowed out a spell but to no avail; the doors remained firmly sealed.

Hermione sprang up and ran to help Poppy with Severus, who was not going to survive without urgent medical attention. She was suddenly thrown across the room, as the windows all shattered and a deafening explosion rang out, bringing down the Great Hall on all its occupants.

_This is my second HGSS fic - my first, the Gap Year Programme, is still a work in progress._

_I hope you all liked this introduction, I will hopefully update soon._

_Please review!_

_Lehayim_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

There was rhythmic banging in Severus' head, as he tried to sit up, but was held back by his wooden, useless limbs. He cracked open one eye. Where was he? Severus struggled, suddenly claustrophobic, and a he felt a presence at his side.

"Calm down, Sir, you'll only do yourself harm."

"Where am I?" He gasped through his dry throat, not recognising his own voice.

"You're in St Mungo's. There was an explosion at Hogwarts."

Oh. Now he remembered. He had a vague memory of Poppy cradling his head, while a worried Hermione Granger hovered over him.

"Is he awake?" He heard a familiar Scottish brogue demand. Severus opened his eyes properly, and saw Minerva standing over him, more unsure of herself that he had ever seen her. She sat down silently, and put her hand on his arm comfortingly.

"What happened?" Severus rasped. Minerva held a glass of water for him so that he could sip the refreshing liquid. She waited for him to finish, and then put the glass to one side, shifting uncomfortably in her chair.

"What. Happened." Severus demanded.

"Some of the Deatheaters that escaped capture came back for revenge. There was an explosion. How much do you remember?"

"Not a lot." He admitted. "The venom in my system was not conducive for awareness." As he spoke of the venom, he suddenly remembered why he had venom in his system in the first place. He groped for his wand, suddenly panicking.

"Why are you sitting here with me? Why did Poppy help me and not Avada me straight away?"

Minerva grasped his meaning at once.

"Harry showed us your memories to prove your innocence. He has gone to the Wizengamot and declared that he will testify on your behalf. It may not be necessary though; a statement from you along with your memories should be sufficient to prove your innocence."

Tears trickled down Severus' face as he heard her words; it was finally over. Minerva joined him in his tears, patting her eyes with a tartan handkerchief.

"I'm so sorry Severus. For not believing in you when Albus had, and for not being there for you to trust me with the truth." Minerva clutched at his arm as she apologised, desperate for him to accept it, and forgive her.

Severus was suddenly extremely uncomfortable. He wanted to reassure the woman; tell her that there was nothing to forgive. But the words would not come.

"I can't move!" He suddenly gasped, realising that his comatose state was not changing. "Am I paralysed?"

"No –" Severus heaved a sigh of relief, "- but you have been fixed in this state temporarily. Your spine was broken, and the Medi-witches had to keep your body immobilised while the potion fixed it."

"Potion? Why not use magic? It's a fairly simple spell." Severus' dark eyes bore holes into Minerva, and she momentarily wished that she had not been so eager to be there when Severus woke up, and break the news to him.

"Severus, the venom that the snake left in your system reacts vigorously against magic. We couldn't use any spells until the venom was gone, and even then it was close to impossible to find a potion to heal your spine that the venom did not react with."

A pause, and then,

"What else are you not telling me?"

"Severus, it's not good news, but you are alive. That is more than we had thought possible! The explosion was nearest to you, and it left you in a bad way. Your foot was crushed, it had to be amputated below the knee."

Severus looked away, unable to meet her eyes and see the pity there.

"It couldn't be healed with magic or potions. Now that the venom is gone the Medi-witches will create a prosthetic for you. It will look the same as your leg was before."

"I don't want anything." Severus snarled. "I don't want the wizarding world pitying me as the poor war hero who lost a limb."

"It isn't pity! This is a hospital; they are trying to help you. The press aren't allowed anywhere near here." Minerva paused, and lowered her tone.

"There's more. The explosion blew apart part of your face." Severus froze.

"Your left ear and part of your jaw on the left side of your face are gone. It is all scar tissue now, we couldn't use magic for this either."

To Minerva's surprise, a low chuckle resounded in Severus' chest.

"They got my spine, foot and half of my face, but managed to miss my blasted nose?"

Minerva was startled for a second, and then joined him in his hearty laughter.

"How long have I been here?" He said, suddenly serious.

"Nearly three weeks."

"How are Poppy and Miss Granger? The blast must have affected them equally badly; they were next to me."

"Poppy is dead." Minerva said bluntly, her curt tone hiding the grief she felt for the loss of a dear friend. The tears pricked at Severus' eyes again, and he blinked them away angrily.

"Miss Granger?"

"She is here in St Mungo's. The medi-witches have high hopes for her regaining consciousness soon."

"Is she alright?"

Minerva hesitated. "Yes, in a manner of speaking."

"What do you mean?"

"It is not for me to tell you. If she wants people to know when she is awake then that is her prerogative."

Severus was ready to argue, but a Medi-witch came into the room to check on him.

"I've explained his injuries to him, you can release the paralysis charm." Minerva said briskly. The witch nodded affirmatively, and flicked her wand at Severus. At once he felt the pressure lift from his limbs, and he lifted his head cautiously. Minerva slipped an extra pillow under his head so that he could sit more easily.

Severus looked down at the empty space beneath the blanket where his leg should have been.

"It feels like my leg is still there." He said, as he cautiously moved the mutilated limb. "I want a mirror." He suddenly demanded, feeling his face with careful, searching fingers. Minerva and the medi-witch exchanged an unsure look, and eventually the witch went to fetch a mirror and held it up in front of him.

Severus started at his reflection, not recognising the man who stared back at him. If you could call the figure a man. His fingers traced the outline of the ghost of his ear, before caressing his scarred face, his fingers exploring the new contours, looking pointlessly for the missing flesh.

"I look no worse than before. It perhaps reflects the inside a little better now." He said harshly, pushing the mirror away. "Now leave Minerva, I don't want any visitors, not now, not ever."

"Severus – I – "

"Get out!" He roared, the dull pain in his leg and his face suddenly becoming too much to bear. Minerva was reluctantly ushered out of the room by the medi-witch, leaving Severus alone in his anger. He picked up the glass of water next to his bed and hurled it at the door, getting a grim satisfaction in watching it shatter, the glass scattering.

"Professor Snape, Sir?"

"What?" He asked angrily.

"The Minister of Magic is here to see you." Kingsley came into the room, and sent the nurse away with a tired thank you.

"Severus, the Ministry needs your statement, and then you can be left in peace. I thought it would be better if I took it, not one of my aurors."

"Why? It's not like you ever believed I was anything other than a traitor and a murderer."

Kingsley flinched.

"Just give me your statement and we can be done with this."

Severus moved in his bed angrily, wishing he had the strength to storm out of the room and slam the door in Kingsley's face. He balled the sheets in his fist, trying to keep his rage under control.

"Shacklebolt. Get out. I'm not interested in anything you have to say. Just send me to Azkaban, I don't care. You can plaster my ruined face all over your blasted papers, and then everyone can see me for the monster I really am."

Kingsley looked to the door.

"Robbards?" A burly man entered the room. "Robbards, I am authorising the use of Veritaserum on Severus Snape."

Kingsley turned back to Severus. "Severus, I'm sorry, but I'm not letting you go to Azkaban. And if this is the only way to do it, then so be it."

Severus roared in a mixture of pain and frustration, as the auror held him down and forced the neck of a bottle into his mouth, pouring in a few drops of potion.

Outside Severus's room Minerva winced as she heard him shout, and she felt his pain with him.

"Professor?"

Minerva looked up. Harry and Ron were standing there.

"Professor McGonagall, Hermione is awake. I thought you would want to know."

"Thank you Potter." She got up and followed Harry and Ron to Hermione's room. "Have you told her yet?" She whispered before entering.

"She knows. She's taking it a bit too calmly, I thought she might need you there as a parent figure, so to speak. She won't have her parents told yet."

Minerva entered the room, bracing herself. The pale girl in the bed looked towards the door as she heard it open, despite the fresh bandages that covered her eyes.

"It's me."Minerva said quietly. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." Hermione said brightly, tucking her hair behind her ears and smiling at where the sound of Minerva's voice was coming from.

"Hermione, stop."

Hermione stopped pretending, and fell silent.

"I'm blind, did you know that?" Hermione whispered.

"I know."

Hermione laughed harshly.

"That's just the way things work. It was too much to hope that so many of us survived the war unscathed." Hermione shrugged her shoulders apathetically. "I don't have any right to complain when whole families have been torn apart."

Hermione fell silent as she heard shouting outside her bedroom. Minerva recognised the voice at once, and hurried from the room.

"I'll be right back," she promised Hermione, then dashed into the hall to see if she could help.

Severus was in the hall at the reception, instructing the receptionist that he was discharging himself and did not want or need any further medical care.

"Severus!" Minerva rushed to his side to support him, but he waved her away. He had fashioned himself some form of crutches with his wand. They looked to be part of what had once been his hospital bed.

"Severus, you can't leave! You can barely walk!"

"Just watch me." He growled, and disapparated with a pop.

I hope you all like this second chapter... thank you so much for your reviews!

And Moxi, I saw what you were talking about and changed it accordingly – thank you.

Please review!

Lehayim.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Hermione roused from her sleep, and gasped suddenly as she saw only grey swimming mists before her. Remembering what had happened, Hermione buried her face back in her pillow and willed herself to go back to sleep, not sure she could face another day of smiling brightly and pretending that everything was alright.

After a few minutes, she groaned lightly, and swung her legs over the side of the bed, fumbling for her slippers. Carefully feeling her way along the walls for the door, Hermione grasped the door handle and swung it open. One hand on the wall firmly, the other reaching blankly in front of her, Hermione felt her way to the top of the stairs, and started to make her way down them.

Stumbling slightly, Hermione hung onto the banisters firmly, and cursed aloud as her feet slid down a few stairs and she narrowly avoided falling.

"Hermione!" Harry rushed out of his bedroom. "What are you doing by yourself? I keep telling you, call me, or call Kreacher."

Hermione bit back a sharp retort; it wasn't Harry's fault for caring – but right now she just needed space, otherwise she would lash out at everyone.

She had been out of the hospital for a month now, and had moved in with Harry at Grimmauld Place, unable to stand her parents' overbearing sympathy and constant concern. They meant well, and Hermione felt a twinge of guilt knowing how they worried with her away from home, but this was something she needed to do on her own. If she heard the word 'disabled' from them one more time she would snap.

"Harry, help me down to the kitchen. We need to talk."

Harry grasped Hermione's arm firmly, and escorted her into the kitchen, seating her in a chair before sitting himself.

"What's going on Hermione?"

"Harry, I want you to listen and not argue with me, okay?"

Harry nodded mutely, and then realised the uselessness in that, and answered affirmatively.

"I understand."

"Harry, I can't do this. It has been a month of falling down stairs and walking into furniture because I don't know where anything is. You've been doing your best, but it's me, not you. I need to get out of here and away from everyone's sympathy and learn to do things for myself."

"Where will you go?" Harry couldn't help interrupt.

"My parents have bought me a small property in Devon. It's a bungalow, and the furniture is laid out very simply so I can learn to navigate my way around the house. Everything has been adapted to fit a blind person's needs."

Harry flinched at the word blind.

"Hermione, why do you refuse to come back to St Mungo's? I'm sure they can do something."

Hermione lost her attempt to control her temper, and let loose all the restrained feelings she had kept locked up since the accident.

"Harry, just stop it! Do you think I don't wish I could see? Do you think I haven't seen doctors, both muggle and magic? THERE IS NOTHING ANYONE CAN DO! I can never see again, and having you and my parents telling me there may be hope doesn't help the situation. I can't stand living here, and having you and Ron pestering me all day, and Mrs Weasley treating me like an invalid, when there is nothing bloody wrong with me!"

"Hermione – "

"Stop fucking Hermione-ing me!"

Hermione stopped dead, and Harry inhaled sharply. He had never heard Hermione swear in all his seven years of knowing the girl. Hermione took a deep breath, calming herself after her outburst.

"Harry, listen to me. This life isn't for me. Do you know how hard it is with everyone else living their lives and doing all the things I had dreamed of achieving, and knowing I can never do any of it? I can't even manage simple everyday tasks, and living a life envying my friends is killing me. I need to get out of here, and be by myself for a while."

"How will you see what you are doing?" Harry cursed his stupid choice of words, but Hermione smiled slightly.

"I am getting a dog for the blind. He's a black Labrador called Noah, and he has been trained. You know about dogs for the blind – you can try to explain to the Weasley's for me!"

"Gee, thanks Hermione!" Harry smiled, suddenly certain that she was doing the right thing.

"Do you have plans today? I want you to come with me, and see the house for me." Harry was acutely aware of the way she had said to see the house _for_ her, rather than _with_ her, and his heart ached in untold sympathy.

"I would love to come."

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Hermione found the address for Harry, and he apparated her to the road in Devon, under the confines of the invisibility cloak.

"What does it look like?" Hermione demanded at once.

"It's really lovely here. The sea is a five minute walk away, there are some stone steps to get to the beach, but the dog will be able to take you there."

"Noah." Hermione corrected, and Harry grinned.

"Your bungalow looks very nice from the outside – it is white stone, and bigger than I had thought it would be."

Casting a furtive look around the road for any bystanders, Harry threw off the cloak, and led Hermione into the property. It was large, with an open layout – perfect for Hermione.

He took her around the kitchen, and all its gadgets to make life a little easier for her, the living room, bathroom, dining room and a small study, filled with bookshelves.

Harry was a little confused, and unsure how to tell the girl that all her books from home had been moved here, for seemingly no purpose.

"What is it?"

Harry hesitated.

"All your books are here, your parents must have had them brought down from your home. I'm sorry, shall I send them back?"

Hermione hadn't mentioned reading, but Harry knew she must be devastated to have lost her passion. To his surprise, Hermione smiled.

"No need. One of the advantages of being a witch is that my books are now all in Braille."

Harry chuckled.

"I shouldn't have expected anything less; I bet you would have been suicidal at the loss of your books!" Harry chuckled, easily joking about the matter, and Hermione forced herself to laugh lightly with him. He had no idea how close she had come in the beginning to suicide. It was only seeing the grieving Weasley's that made her realise that she couldn't put people through that when everyone was still coming to terms with the losses gained in the War.

"My bedroom?" She asked.

Harry opened the remaining door to her light airy bedroom, with a large bed in the centre, cupboard to one side, and little else. Hermione felt her way around it carefully. Coming to the bare window, Hermione pulled out her wand, and pair of curtains appeared.

"I may not be able to see out of the windows, but I don't want people looking in." She said decisively. "What is the view from the window?"

Harry looked out of the window, and was silent for a moment or two as he took in the beautiful view. He wished he hadn't looked, as Hermione waited for an answer.

"It overlooks your garden. There are roses growing around the window, and,"

"What colour roses?"

"Pink roses, in full bloom. And there are big willow trees shadowing the garden, with flowers everywhere. There is a small pond at one end, but it is fenced off. And there is a bench in the sunlight where you can sit in summer."

Harry winced at the look of simultaneous pain and longing on his friend's face.

"What flowers?" She demanded.

"I don't know, I'm sorry." Harry felt absolutely useless in the face of Hermione's desperation to see what he was describing.

"What else is out there?"

"Just beyond the garden, you are looking out at the sea. It's a perfect blue, and it's quite windy, so there are a few boats."

Hermione let out a low hiss, suppressing the tears that came unbidden to her eyes. She wiped them away furiously with her sleeve.

"I'm sorry, I know it's stupid of me to get upset when there are so many people worse off than I."

"You have nothing to apologise for."

"I think I'm going to stay here for a while, you can go home now." She dismissed him. There was the swish of a wand, and Hermione felt something long and thin being pressed into her hand.

"Hermione, I know you don't want it, but until you get your dog, please use this cane for me. I will be worrying otherwise." Hermione nodded.

"Can you make sure the pot of floo powder is by the fireplace as you go. I will come back later, I need to pack up my things."

"Of course."

Harry left quietly, and Hermione pushed open the window, drinking in the smell of the flowers and the summer breeze that flooded the room. She thought back to Harry's description of the garden, and tried to picture it in her mind. But all she could see was the cloud of swirling grey. She threw herself onto the bed, and pressed her face into the pillow.

"I want to die." She muttered, clutching the covers in her hand and twisting them violently.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Hermione quickly settled into her new home by the sea, learning the layout of the house so that she could move about it with ease. Noah, her energetic and eager new Labrador stayed by his mistress' side like a shadow. He was well trained, aware that Hermione could not see, and alerting her to any potential hazards with a sharp bark.

The neighbours in her small Devonshire village learnt about the beautiful blind girl who had moved there, and more than one went to visit her, to welcome her to the village, and extend the hand of friendship.

While not rude, they quickly learnt from Hermione's standoffish attitude that she wanted to be left alone, and by the end of her first month in Devon, Hermione had established her own solitary make-shift world, her only companion the ever-faithful Noah. Her wand had been carefully put away, and she no longer wanted anything to do with that world. It only served to remind her of all the dreams that were now an impossibility.

Harry tried to visit several times, but it was impossible to get into the little house, and Hermione firmly refused to see him, Ron, or anyone else from her old life. She cut herself off completely, occasionally phoning her parents so that they would not come down to check on her.

After several failed attempts to contact Hermione, a desperate Harry sought the counsel of Minerva McGonagall. She remained at Hogwarts over the summer, and so Harry returned to his former school to seek her out. It was an eerie experience; he apparated to the gates of the great castle and his suppressed memories ignited in his mind, reminding him of that terrible final battle, when they had lost so many.

The gates swung open of their own accord, and, startled, Harry entered the Hogwarts ground and walked up to the school. The front doors also opened up into the Entrance Hall, and Harry looked around, confused when he did not see anyone. His hand tightened slightly around his wand, and he looked about him warily.

A silver patronus bounded down the main stairs, and Harry recognised the familiar cat at once. He followed it up to the Head mistress's office, which was open for all to enter.

"Come in, Harry." A Scottish brogue called out, chuckling as she saw Harry's puzzled expression.

"I knew you were coming, come and take a seat." Her eyes twinkled as Dumbledore's had done, although the wisdom of his years was not as advanced in her gaze as it had been in his.

"How did you know -?"

She smiled more broadly.

"Omniscience is one of the perks of the job." Harry gaped at her.

"Shut your mouth or you'll catch flies. Of course I'm not omniscient! I saw you apparate from the window. And of course, as Headmistress I am aware when anyone approaches the boundaries of the school." Harry felt slightly foolish, but Minerva did not dwell on it.

"How have you been holding up, Harry?"

He shrugged. "Alright, I suppose. It's hard living in Grimmauld Place and being reminded not just of Sirius, but also of Professor Lupin and Tonks every day. I could never bring myself to sell it though."

Minerva nodded thoughtfully.

"Have you considered rebuilding your parents' home in Godric's Hollow? It has been a memorial for a very long time, perhaps you should bring new life to it."

Harry considered it thoughtfully, and then scolded himself for getting distracted from the real reason he had come here.

"Now what is on your mind? I know you didn't come here just for a gossip."

"I'm worried about Hermione." Harry confessed. "She won't see anyone, the only people she is in contact with are her parents. It's not healthy for her to cut herself off like this."

"Would you like me to try?" Minerva was straight to the point.

"There's no point, her house is too heavily warded to get in, and she won't answer the door to visitors. The last time I tried, she told me to 'let her live her life in peace.'"

Minerva frowned, and Harry continued.

"So I waited for her to go for her daily walk on the beach. I confess, I have been keeping an eye on her which is how I knew that. And then I tried approaching her then, tried to reason with her, but she was furious."

"What did she say to you?"

"She said that she loves Ron and I, and she always will, but she wasn't happy being a burden on us and always feeling second-rate. And if we love her too we would leave her to herself, and go home and live our own lives and forget about her."

Minerva did not respond, but Harry's recount had set the cogs whirring in her head, and she did not say it, but she was deeply concerned for her ex-student.

"I will visit her." She held up a hand to silence Harry. "She may have changed, but she has not entirely lost who she was. She will see an old teacher, purely out of respect, even if she does not want to."

Harry exhaled slowly. "Thank you. Will you let me know what happens?"

"Of course."

"When will you go?"

"I think this afternoon will do nicely." Harry was surprised at her haste. "You didn't think I spend my summer working? It will be nice to get out of the castle; have a change of scenery."

Minerva was blasé about the matter, but truth be told, she knew that if she did not go today, she would worry about her favourite student until she did.

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Noah whined softly, alerting Hermione that something had happened. The dog sat up, watching out the window the woman walking up the little path to Hermione's house. Hermione heard a knock at the door, and fumbled for Noah's collar before going to the door.

"Who is it?" She called.

"It's Professor McGonagall, I've come down from Hogwarts to see you."

Hermione hesitated. She had warned all her old friends to leave her alone; she did not want any reminder of her former life. She fingered the wand which she had pulled from its isolated home on a dusty shelf, and tucked into the waistband of her jeans as a precautionary measure. She rarely used it now, except to maintain the wards on the house.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I'm busy."

Minerva clucked her tongue quietly, unsure what to say.

"In that case I will come back another time, I only popped in for a visit. School starts in a couple of weeks, and I won't have a chance to come back, so I had thought you might have time to see your old Professor. My apologies for disturbing you while you are busy."

Minerva felt like an idiot talking to the front door, the words coming out of her mouth like verbal diarrhoea, not thinking about what she was saying until it had already been said.

Hermione's hand tightened around her wand subconsciously, and the other drifted towards the latch on the door. She knew exactly what Minerva was doing, and resented her for it. But at the same time, Minerva had been there for her when she had been in St Mungo's, and Hermione hadn't forgotten that.

"Just a moment." She said, finally, taking down the wards and letting Minerva in.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you." Minerva repeated. Hermione shrugged uncomfortably, it was clear that she had not disturbed her in the slightest.

"It's fine, I can walk the dog later." Noah's ears pricked up at the word 'walk', but he did not move from his position by Hermione's side.

Hermione showed Minerva into the living room, and bade her to sit down on the couch while she flung open the large bay windows.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Hermione asked politely, wondering what this visit was about, wishing it was over.

"That would be lovely. Let me help you."

"I can manage fine." Hermione snapped tautly, leaving Minerva on tenterhooks, while she went to the kitchen.

Minerva sipped her tea politely, whilst Hermione fingered the dog's collar distractedly.

"So how are you doing?" Minerva asked.

"I'm fine. It's very pleasant in Devon." Hermione answered ambiguously, her tone of indifference making it clear that Minerva was not welcome.

"It's lovely." Minerva agreed. She leant forward, despite knowing that it was a pointless action.

"Harry and Ron miss you. They're worried."

Hermione visibly bristled. "If that is why you are here then you can leave. I've made my wishes clear, and if they care about me they will leave me be. I'm doing this as much for them as I am for me."

Minerva hastened to reassure the girl. "That is not why I came, I wanted to see how you are. I brought you some journals. The latest potions monthly came out yesterday, I thought you would be interested in it. Professor Snape has published some interesting work."

"How is he?" Hermione asked, out of decorum rather than actual concern.

"He is fine. No one had seen or heard of him since the accident, he is a recluse." _Like you_, Minerva added to herself.

"That's a pity." Hermione did not show any real interest in the man's wellbeing, and Minerva moved on.

"More importantly, I wanted to check your health. You haven't had your head or your eyesight checked since you left the hospital two months ago, and it's important that you have regular checkups."

"I don't want a stranger interfering in my life, I'm fine." Hermione said brusquely.

"I understand, but I know a thing or two about healing. Now tell me honestly, how have you been feeling?"

Hermione paused, wanting Minerva to leave her to her daily routine, away from prying.

"I'm fine. A few headaches, but that is it." Hermione was very final, the conversation was clearly over. But Minerva persisted.

"What sort of headaches? How frequently?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know. Perhaps three times a week, on average."

"What sort of headaches? Migraines?" Minerva was not giving up, and Hermione muttered something under her breath, that sounded suspiciously like _'interfering old cow'_, and Minerva smiled grimly. How, in the space of two months, had Hermione turned into a cynical, inhospitable recluse.

Not bothering to ask permission, for she knew the answer would be a negative, Minerva pulled out her wand and cast a diagnostic spell on the girl.

"Yes, I can see why you are suffering from migraines, it is without doubt a result of the head trauma you suffered. I will send you some pain relief and headache potions, and will return in three weeks to see if there has been any improvement."

"There's no need to come back, I will write to let you know."

"I will return in three weeks." Minerva repeated.

She was very firm here, and Hermione grunted in acquiescence, and stood up, making it clear that this meeting was over.

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I know it has been a while, but I have been busy updating the Gap Year Programme!

Please review!

Lehayim


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Noah whined and nudged his mistress's hand anxiously with his wet nose. Hermione groaned softly, and groped for the faithful dog, finding his neck and patting him reassuringly.

"I'm fine." She said, barely louder than a whisper. Noah nudged her again, and Hermione sat up, concerned that something could be wrong. Her head was spinning, and the grey cloudiness that filled her vision seemed to be enveloping her, dragging her further and further into its embrace.

Hermione fell back onto the bed, Noah lying on the floor next to her, casting a worried glance at his mistress every few minutes.

"I don't care if the Pope, the Minister for Magic, and the Queen all come knocking, I'm not getting up for anyone." She said to herself. In too much discomfort to even consider getting up, Hermione reached for her wand and with a rare bit of magic, flicked it at the window so that the glass pane slid up, letting in the ocean breeze.

Hermione gasped aloud, grimacing and cursing her stupidity. Her migraines were bad, that was true, but they were nothing compared to the effect using magic had on her. But she had learnt this quickly, and aside from the odd occasion when the migraines were so bad that she couldn't move, Hermione had made her life as muggle-friendly as possible.

She reached for the CD player next to her and found the play button, letting the smooth tones of Frank Sinatra comfort her, as she drifted off to sleep.

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"I didn't take you for a Sinatra fan."

Hermione sat up, stifling a yell as her hand closed around her wand.

"Who's there?" She asked warningly, and a dry chuckle met her question.

"Miss Granger, relax. I didn't mean to startle you." Hermione's muscles relaxed as she recognised the tones of Professor McGonagall.

"How did you get in here?"

Minerva frowned at the question, and Hermione detected the sudden change in the older woman's air.

"Hermione, the door was ajar and there were no wards up."

Hermione stiffened at once. "Have I been broken into?" The underlying worry broke through the calm she tried to project.

"No, nothing has been moved, and I cast an intruder-checking spell. No one has been here."

"I don't understand." Hermione whispered under her breath. "Who broke through my wards?"

"Hermione – there were no wards to be broken. My guess is when you returned from walking the dog you forgot to put them up – and that is probably when the door was left ajar too."

Hermione's breath quickened in her throat. "Oh God, I think I'm losing it."

"Hermione?" Minerva was afraid to question the girl, to spook her anymore, although she had no idea what had caused Hermione to go so white or to appear so suddenly panicked.

"I think I'm losing my mind. I can't remember whole durations of the day, suddenly everything is a blur and I can't remember what I was just doing. And sometimes when the migraines get really bad, I don't know who I am or how I got here." Hermione's voice was trembling, her shaking fingers clutching at the dog's fur. Noah whined unhappily.

Minerva paused, unsure what to say without scaring Hermione away, and at the same time deathly worried for her. She had been under the impression from the St Mungo's mediwitches that Hermione had permanent blindness as a result of the accident – but that was it. Why would they not indicate any neurological problems?

"How long has this been going on for?" She asked at last.

"I'm not sure exactly. About two months."

"Why didn't you say anything when I was here a month ago? Oh, never mind that. I want you to come back to Hogwarts with me; we can take care of you while we work out what is wrong. Our mediwitch is far better than those incompetents at St Mungo's."

Hermione smiled faintly.

"They aren't incompetents!" She protested, unsure why exactly she was defending the people who hadn't managed to foresee this happening. "Angelina Johnson was one of the apprentices treating me – I remember her being intelligent at Hogwarts."

"That is true, but you are avoiding the issue."

"I know. But the fact of the matter is, I don't want to be at Hogwarts, I don't want to be surrounded by people pitying me, always trying to help me. And I certainly wouldn't be able to navigate my way around the castle. No, I would rather stay here. I will keep taking the potions you are having sent over, and see if they start to have an effect."

Minerva was surprised at how forthcoming Hermione was being. She had anticipated the girl being as difficult to approach as the last time she had visited She sat down on the end of the bed, and looked down at the girl with infinite sympathy in her eyes. She tried not to convey that in her words, knowing how Hermione would take it.

"No, Hermione." She was gentler than Hermione had ever heard the stern, matter-of-fact professor. "Those potions were intended to help migraines, but this is much more than that. If you won't leave here then I will have to get different potions brewed for you, and monitor the effects."

Hermione's eyebrows drew together, not liking the sound of that at all.

"I didn't say I wouldn't leave here, I just said I wouldn't go to Hogwarts." Hermione said pointedly, and despite her difficult and obstinate tone, Minerva was thankful that Hermione wasn't being as difficult as she might have been.

"Very well. I will take to the brewer who has been making these potions and see what is suggested. If you have no objections, perhaps you could move in with a researcher, or a medic, or someone better equipped than I."

Hermione grimaced. This wasn't what she had meant at all!

"I don't want to stay with someone I don't know." Hermione said stubbornly, and Minerva smiled faintly.

"Do not worry about that, I will ensure that it is not a stranger."

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Back in her office at Hogwarts, Minerva tossed a handful of floo powder into the fire, and put her head into the flames, calling out, "Snape library."

As she had expected, Severus was in his library, his chair tucked away into the shadows so that she could only make out his silhouette scribbling furiously in his research notes.

"Minerva." He nodded at her formally, but did not get up from his chair.

"Can I come through?"

"No, you can stay where you are." It was the same answer every time, and every time Severus remained seated in his chair, swathed in the shadows. She considered herself fortunate really; all the others who had tried to contact Severus had been nastily splinched if trying to apparated into his home, or had seen the end of his wand upon flooing – waking to find themselves back in their homes, with very singed hair.

"What do you want?" His words were quick off the tongue, his tone sharp as a blade, impatient to be left alone.

"It's about Hermione."

"What's wrong with Granger this time? She can't need more potion already."

"The potion isn't working."

Severus frowned, his quick mind calculating all the possibilities, and then coming down to the only conclusion.

"She's lying."

"Severus, I assure you she isn't."

"Minerva, there is absolutely no way those potions couldn't work."

"I'm not undermining your abilities as a brewer. However it seems there were things that St Mungo's either overlooked or neglected to tell the girl."

Severus snorted. "What's wrong with her now? Lost her hearing this time?"

"Severus, that's enough." Minerva snapped, wishing he would let her through the fireplace so that she could talk to him properly. Having her head in his fireplace was an oddly vulnerable position to be in. "She has been suffering memory loss – there have been whole periods of time which just disappear from her mind. At its worst, she doesn't even know who she is."

Severus leaned forward, interested in spite of himself.

"I know no potion to cure that. Take her back to the hospital." He dismissed Hermione's case instantaneously, and turned back to his work, assuming that Minerva would now leave.

"They couldn't help her the first time, and –" He looked up, his brows drawing together in a frown as he realised his former colleague wouldn't be that easy to get rid of.

"And what do you expect me to do?" He interrupted, beating her to her point.

"I thought you could look into it. You are a top potion researcher, and your speciality is medical potions. You have made some of the greatest breakthroughs in magical medicine in the last fifteen years."

"And how do you propose I do that when she is in Devon and I am here?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

"She could stay here with you, while you carry out your investigation and your research." Minerva said, stubbornly calm.

Severus suddenly stood up, sending his papers flying.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" he roared. "I don't want her here, and I don't want you here. EVER. I want you and every other busybody to stay out of my life."

"Severus-"

"Didn't you know I'm a monster?" he hissed, filled with rage, and the next thing Minerva knew the chair he had been sitting in was flying across the room, crashing into the opposite wall.

"Severus, please."

"GET OUT!" he roared, this time sending the small side table into the wall, where it flew into the previously smashed mirror on the wall, causing more cracks to form.

Severus looked up at the damage he had caused, still livid, and caught site of the hundreds of disjointed reflections of himself in the smashed mirror.

"Do you want to see the monster I have become?" he asked, his voice suddenly low and controlled, and more dangerous than when he had been throwing furniture around in his rage. Slowly, carefully, Severus stepped out of the shadows and into the light, his head held back proudly as he waited for Minerva to pass judgement and for the look of revulsion he was sure was to follow.

The first thing she saw was the pinned back trouser leg – with just empty space where his leg should have been. He was leaning on a battered black walking stick – the beautifully carved ornate one she had sent to him was abandoned in one corner.

She had been scared to look at first, but her gaze finally turned to his face, and Minerva failed to restrain the gasp that escaped her lips. His left ear was gone, just a gaping hole that remained. Minerva thought of George Weasley's missing ear, done by Severus' wand, and the phrase '_an eye for an eye'_ flew into her mind unbidden. She instantly felt terrible for thinking that, and prayed that her thoughts did not show on her face. Severus was more adept than most at reading peoples' thoughts and emotions.

She looked then at the delicate layer of skin spread thinly over the cheekbone that had been exposed in the explosion; the sharp bone still jutting through – its shape visible to the naked eye. She looked to the other side of his face – still all there, but the skin raised in livid red scars. His neck too was covered in the same, horrifying, ridged scarlet scars.

And finally – reluctantly – Minerva looked at the horror that had once been his jaw – the left side entirely blasted away, giving his face an almost comical, lopsided appearance. He still had his mouth, although the left corner was slightly twisted where the scars spread to it. His thin lips were currently pressed tightly together in anger, but all she could think was how lucky he was to still have his mouth. To be left with something. She stared at him, transfixed. Somehow this was much, much worse to look at than when his wounds had still been healing in hospital.

Ignoring what he had said, Minerva pulled herself through the fireplace, standing in the library several metres away from him, not daring to go any closer.

"If you are quite finished staring..." He said icily. "Now you understand when I said the outside reflects the inside. If you would be so kind as to leave me now, and never come back."

Minerva nodded, mutely, and turned back to the fireplace. Just as she was about to throw a handful of floo powder in, she stopped herself and turned around to look at him again, trying not to show the rising revulsion at his grotesque appearance.

"Miss Granger cannot see the mask you wear – she only remembers the man you once were, and the good you did."

And then she turned, and stepped into the fireplace, leaving Severus frozen in his place, and unreadable expression coming across his features.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"Hermione?" Minerva rapped on Hermione's door briskly, wondering why it was taking the girl so long to let her in. She thought briefly that for the last couple of months she had been more of a go-between for these two recluses than she had been headmistress.

It had been a week ago that she had seen Severus, and she had given him five days to cool down after her intrusion before she had written to ask him if she could move Hermione in. The reply had been blunt and rude, but he had agreed for the girl to stay. Minerva wondered what it was that had persuaded him to take in the student he had once hated so, but she wasn't about to question this rare generosity. A shudder ran down her spine, and a look of revulsion flitted over Minerva's features as she remembered her first glimpse of Severus' face as he stepped out of the shadows, his eyes gleaming dangerously, and she now asked herself if she was doing the right thing leaving Hermione with him, when he hung so dangerously over the edge of sanity.

But then, she reasoned, however angry he was at the world and at himself, he would never take it out on one of his former-students, the children he had sacrificed so much to protect. And moreover, he would never take out his anger on a defenceless blind girl.

Looking up at the door, Minerva rapped again, more sharply this time, curious but not yet worried. Perhaps Hermione was on the beach? There was a low whine, and a frantic scrabbling at the door.

"Noah?" Concerned now, Minerva pulled out her wand and cast a quick spell – one Albus Dumbledore had created based on muggle thermal-imaging, and checked to see if Hermione was in the house. There was the red image of Noah on the other side of the door, and then, a little further away, a red blur on the floor that she took to be Hermione.

"Damn!" She had let this go too far, she should have got Hermione help long ago. She started taking down Hermione's wards, careful not to let her frustration get the better of her, knowing that hurrying this would only slow her down. It was nigh-on impossible to take down personal wards as carefully constructed as Hermione's – the only reason she was able to do so was because she knew her student's magical signature so well.

The dog's scrabbling at the door grew more urgent as time passed, and it was with great difficult that Minerva stopped herself rushing this. The last ward fell, and the door flew open, Noah launching himself at Minerva and then running back to Hermione, turning to check that Minerva was following. Minerva bent over the limp girl, checking her pulse the muggle way even though she knew that she was alive – she had seen that much from the scarlet image of her spell. The girl had passed out, other than that she fine. But she urgently needed to get her to Severus and have him try to work out was wrong. This had gone on far too long.

A brief spell to make Hermione light as a feather, and then Minerva had Hermione in her arms like the mother hen she had been as her head of house, too maternal to levitate the girl in front of her like some mere _object_.

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"Severus?" Minerva called out, as she stepped into his home for the second time with more than a little trepidation. She only hoped that his mood was a little better today.

"Yes?" He stepped into the room, and Minerva couldn't help but recoil slightly at his terrifying appearance. She had thought it wouldn't be a problem, with some of the hideous creatures she had seen over the years, but to see a human look like this – it was just incomprehensible for human eyes to register. His cold eyes flicked down to the emotionless girl and for a moment something like emotion flashed through them, before he was back to his masked expression.

He motioned to her. "What's wrong with her?" His tone was of absolute indifference.

"She passed out, I found her like this at home." He raised one eyebrow disdainfully, and that familiar expression was suddenly alien on his new face.

"Then why are you holding her if that is all. Put her in the first bedroom on the left, I will look at her later."

Minerva did as she was instructed, only waking Hermione with a quick "Rennervate," once she had the girl in bed, her clothes neatly flying of their own accord into the wardrobe, where they fell into neat piles. She turned around and jumped, startled by Severus's authoritative figure lurking in the doorway, his eyes on Hermione as she moaned softly as she entered waking.

"Hello?" She was suddenly alert, on edge.

"Hermione, it's me, Professor McGonagall. You passed out."

"Where am I?" She asked, still afraid, not liking not knowing where she was or what was happening.

"You're in the home of Severus Snape. He has agreed to look into what is causing this, and try to help you."

"Professor Snape...? I thought he wouldn't see anyone since the – since the accident." She winced, remembering the consequences of the accident to herself, and Severus wondered if she blamed him for her injuries. After all, if he had never turned up she wouldn't have rushed to his side, and then she wouldn't have had such a direct hit.

"I heard the same about you, Miss Granger." And she flinched, startled by his voice, then shrugged her shoulders.

"My circumstances, along with a meddling former-teacher, made that impossible." Hermione smiled in the direction she thought Minerva was, no malice in her words.

Severus didn't smile, instead getting straight to business.

"Tell me about your symptoms. I have already seen your medical records from St Mungo's." He was brisk and abrupt, and it was perfectly suited to what Hermione had become. Empathy would have made this impossible, and Hermione would have left at once.

"I'm going to get back to Hogwarts, I'll be back to check on you as soon as possible." Minerva said to Hermione, and then turned to Severus. For a brief moment she wondered once more if she was doing the right thing leaving Hermione with him, and then she pushed the thought aside.

"Hermione's seeing-eye dog is being sent over later, I hope that is alright." And then she fled before Severus could reply.

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Hermione listed her symptoms for Severus, and curt as he was, he found himself overwhelmed with a sudden guilt for what she had become, unable to stop himself thinking that it was his fault.

After half an hour of casting spell after spell, trying to see what was going on inside her head, he heard a small and tentative, "Professor?" her voice was most unlike her happy, confident ringing tones as a student, and different again to the cold and self-assured crisp tones which she had used to emotionlessly list her symptoms.

He looked down at her, suddenly struck by how much of a child she looked; her face white and scared sticking out above the covers of the enormous bed. She was to be twenty later that year, but her long plaits and wide, unseeing brown eyes reminded him of when she had been a student and more annoying than any student he had ever know, and at the same time he had wanted her more than anyone to ask those questions that the other students didn't understand, wanted her to succeed in the impossible. And look at her now.

"Professor?" She asked again, confused by his silence.

"Mmm." He grunted, startled suddenly by her hand reaching out and groping the air around her until she came upon his wand. Her hand felt its way down his hand and his arm, reaching his shoulder. He was stiff as a statue until her hand gently felt his neck, and then he spoke.

"I wouldn't do that." He growled in warning, every muscle in him tensing.

"I already know about your injuries." She said quietly, her hand feeling the strong, sinewy muscles in his neck, and then tentatively ran her hand up the side of his face, feeling for the missing ear that she had heard about. Her fingers felt the hardened skin around the gaping hole and then moved down again, fingering the ridged skin of his face, her fingers pausing on the feel of his sharp cheekbone jutting through the thin layer of skin. And then, even gentler now as she felt the slight tremors running through him, her fingers ran over the ruin of his jaw on the left side of his face, feeling the new contours, and strange new angles.

And then her hand ran up the right of his face, feeling how the other side should have been.

"I see no difference." She said gently, and with a guilty start he remembered saying those exact words to her years previously, but with such different meaning. His words had been filled with spite and malice, and somehow, despite what had happened to her, there was none of that in her tone, only soothing reassurance.

He suddenly shrugged her hand off him almost violently.

"I'm going to look up a few things." He said, opening the door only for the frantic Labrador who had been waiting on the other side to come barrelling in and leap onto the bed, licking Hermione's face thoroughly, ecstatic to be with his mistress again.

"Keep that infernal dog out of my way." Severus growled, his mood black, as he left the room, slamming the door behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

It took a week before Hermione has conquered her nerves enough to venture out of her room and downstairs. With Severus refusing to spend time with her other than for medical research, she had not been shown around his house. As a result she was relying solely on Noah to get her downstairs in one piece.

One foot after the other, taking minute baby-steps, Hermione carefully place her foot on the top step, then felt delicately for the next one. She lost her balance for less than a milli-second, alarmed at how steep the stairs were, and that was all it took for her to cling to Noah with one hand, and to the banisters with the other.

She inhaled slowly, calming herself before she took another step. And then another. And another. Soon she found herself at the bottom of the stairs, and smiled grimly at the sense of achievement she felt. If one had told her before the accident how much getting to the bottom of the stairs could mean to her she would have openly laughed.

Severus stood a few feet away, absolutely motionless. She had no idea that he was there, but he had been watching her descent with interest. The first time he had made it downstairs on his walking stick had been a proud moment too.

"Noah? Walkies?" She said nervously, wondering what Severus would say if he knew she was taking her dog out in his garden. She assumed the house elves had been clearing up after him, for he had not been outside once in the past week, since she had been secluded in her bedroom.

Noah barked, and Hermione stumbled after him, her hand still on his collar, as he made for the door to the garden. Fumbling for a moment, Hermione opened it, and the dog flew out, entirely forgetting about Hermione in his joy of being outside and getting some exercise.

Hermione took several hesitant steps outside, her head cocked as she listened for her usually-faithful companion. She walked a little more in one direction, unable to hear him at all.

"Noah?" She called. She heard a bark that sounded too far away to still be in the garden, and took a few steps in that direction, confused and a little scared. Had she known how expansive the grounds were she would never have ventured out at all. But as it was she had not known, and she now found herself completely lost, not knowing what direction the house was in, or where her dog had disappeared to.

She turned and walked for a few minutes in the direction she thought the house must be. Encountering nothing, she realised that she was taking herself further and further away from where she wanted to be.

Severus had quietly followed her, and was leaning against the door, watching the terrified girl. He contemplated helping her, but knew that if she was anything like him she would hate having anyone see her in this state. And besides, she had no business going about his home like this without his permission.

"Noah!" Hermione gasped out, her words breaking as her breath came in short, sharp gasps. She took a few desperate steps in one direction, and then, changing her mind, another few in a different direction. Leaves from a low-lying branch of a nearby tree brushed the top of her head, and Hermione screamed.

Severus grimaced. Heartless as he was, he couldn't bear to watch this any longer. A muttered, "Wingardium Leviosa," and the disappeared dog was back by her side. Sensing his mistress' distress at once he pawed at her leg, and Hermione could have cried with relief.

Clinging to him so tightly that he whimpered, Hermione let the dog lead her back to the house.

"Miss Granger." Hermione jumped, startled. "If you wish to explore my house one of the elves will assist you. Call for Motti if you require assistance."

Hermione blushed, furious that he had seen her. But she inclined her head politely, murmuring "Thank you," to the brusque man.

"What are you doing now?" He inquired. Hermione shrugged.

"Nothing. What is there to do when you can't see anything?"

Severus was tempted to ask her to assist him in his work. He knew he could find something for her to do. But then, why did he need to be saddled with her company, when he already had to put up with her in his house?

He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sure you will find something to occupy yourself."

"Like building a scaffold." She muttered under her breath, and Severus' lips twitched at the comment, trying not to laugh. Had she been serious he might have been worried, but she was over the worst now. She wasn't likely to turn to suicide any time soon.

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Hermione's parents, meanwhile, had been fretting over their daughter for some time. Harry had visited them several times to keep them updated, and one of Hermione's former teachers – Professor McGonagall – had come on a few occasions to offer what little reassurances she could.

They were surprised therefore, to open the door that morning to see a man clearly from the wizarding world – his cloak gave it away, but one they had never seen before.

Severus had cast his glamour well, and while it was taking significant strength to maintain such a demanding spell on himself, and did at least look normal to these muggles. His leg he had not been able to disguise, and both of their gazes fell to it, before flickering guiltily back up to his face.

"Can we help you?" Mrs Granger asked politely.

"Your daughter Hermione is staying with me for the time being." He replied. "I am in medical potions research. May I come in?"

He stepped inside, and Hermione's parents showed him in, worried about their daughter.

"Is Hermione alright?" Mrs Granger asked anxiously.

"She is perfectly fine. I am actually here to make a rather unusual request. Did Miss Granger play any musical instruments in her youth?"

Both Mr and Mrs Granger looked bemused. "Instruments?" Her mother repeated.

"Yes. I hear her humming to herself a lot, and I had hoped that she did. Her condition has left her in a state where she does not think herself capable of doing anything. Even the most basic of tasks, and one of her old favourites – reading a book, is now laborious and difficult for her, and she spends most of the day moping in her room. I therefore thought that if she had something she could do by touch, such as play an instrument, it might be beneficial."

Understanding dawned, and Mr Granger got up. "Yes, she played both the violin and the piano as a child, and I know that she tried to keep them up over the holidays from school." He disappeared from the room, and returned with a violin case.

Severus took it. "Thank you. I have the use of a piano that I can offer her, and I only hope that this will help."

"Can we see her?" Mrs Granger asked anxiously.

Severus hesitated. Could he disappear and arrange for the house-elves to show in Hermione's parents without being seen? It could be done.

"I will discuss it with her." He said at last. "You understand, she has a lot of self-healing to do."

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Later that night as he read through the notes on Hermione's condition with a frown, he heard the first notes of the Waltz from Tchaikovsky's sleeping beauty floating along the air from the attic. Hermione had hidden herself away up there so as not to disturb Severus, but he could still hear the beautiful music. Setting aside his work, he sat back and listened.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

At St Mungo's Hospital, word had already gone round that the infamously bad-tempered Severus Snape was due to arrive for his first check-up since the accident, and the medi-witches misfortunate enough to be on duty awaited his arrival on tenterhooks.

He came through the floo, robes billowing, surprisingly graceful for a man missing a leg. His hood was pulled low over his face, casting it into shadows. One of the apprentices couldn't help but peer intently into the shadows of his face, intent on getting a look at the ruined face of the reclusive war hero.

Wordlessly, and to all appearances, wandlessly, Severus sent the girl flying backwards so that she was pinned against the wall. She squeaked, but was sensible enough to say nothing.

"Mr Snape, if you wouldn't mind refraining from intimidating my employees." The head medi-witch came out of her office and crossed her arms across her chest, eyeing Severus keenly. As a former student of his, Severus was inwardly impressed that she was not cowering in her shoes, and contemplated her for a moment; debating whether or not her no-nonsense stance was worth breaking. He decided against it.

"Healer Thwaite, if you wouldn't mind." He gestured to the open door of her office, and limped in without waiting for her. The healer raised one eyebrow and followed him in, sitting down behind her desk.

"Well, Mr Snape, you've certainly lived up to your reputation in the two minutes you have spent in my hospital. Take a seat. May I take a blood sample?"

Severus grunted in acquiescence. A quick flick of her wand and a small test tube suddenly filled with blood.

"Your blood results all seem normal, your scans seem fine. Now let's talk cosmetics. As discussed, because of the venom we couldn't re-grow your leg. But a prosthetic would look identical to a real leg, surely –"

"No." His tone made it clear that his one-word answer was final. "But I came for something else, actually. Miss Granger's medical records."

Healer Thwaite raised an eyebrow. "They are confidential." She did not ask him why he wanted them, although curiosity almost got the better of her.

"If Miss Granger signs for them to be released to me?"

Healer Thwaite now looked uncomfortable. What was her cantankerous, disabled ex-potions professor wanting with Granger's medical records?

"Miss Granger is staying with me," he confided, not sure why he was telling her this, but somehow sure that he could trust her that this information would not make it to the paparazzi. They would have a field day with headlines about an ex-deatheater abusing a blind war-hero.

"She has been suffering from headaches and other related problems, and I have been looking into it." He gritted his teeth, finding civility hard to manage. "I would greatly appreciate it if you could release the records to me, whilst keeping what I have just divulged quiet."

He now produced a signed consent form from Hermione. Thwaite regarded him coolly, and then took the form. As it touched her fingers, it disappeared and was replaced by the medical notes. For a moment she was reluctant to relinquish her grasp on them and release them to Severus. She was still trying to process the information that Hermione was living with him; unsure what to make of it.

Severus smoothly slid the file from her grip, and flipped it open.

"Muggle records too?" He questioned, looking at the unfamiliar scans and x-rays.

"Her parents insisted on her seeing a top muggle specialist also. I admit that I do not understand muggle medicine, but the notes are included nevertheless. It provides a different angle, you see."

"Thank you." Severus stood up, steadying himself on his crutches. He refused to look at Thwaite for fear he might see the familiar pity in her eyes that he saw on others.

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Severus apparated back to his home, smiling slightly to himself when it dawned upon him that he was still standing. Why did mastering the ability to not fall over suddenly seem like such an accomplishment? He frowned at the realisation. The thrill of flying and being on horseback were suddenly impossibilities now, only to be replaced by the thrill of _not falling down_.

"Pathetic." He muttered to himself. It dawned upon him for just a moment that whilst Hermione was disabled for life, he could easily have a prosthetic limb fitted; have his face reconstructed. And then the thought was thrown from his mind, replaced by the obstinacy and dogged refusal to let anyone disturb his self-sufficiency, that had served him his entire life.

He slowly made his way to the attic to fetch Hermione down. She would surely be able to interpret the muggle medical notes better than he.

He froze in the doorway, transfixed by the sight of her. He knew that he was interrupting something that was terribly private, but for some reason he could not bear to tear himself away.

She had pages of music on her lap as she sat cross-legged on the dirty floor. Severus at once resolved to send the house elves up at once to clean out the attic for her. Yes she was blind, but that did not mean she should spend her days in the squalor of the dusty attic.

The music had been charmed to be read in Braille, and Severus did not immediately understand why. It was impossible to read Braille and play simultaneously. Dried tear tracks were still visible on her cheeks, and Hermione scrubbed her eyes angrily.

Not bothering to stand, she brought the violin back up to her shoulder and the first few notes of Bach's violin concerto sounded. A wrong note. Severus flinched. Hermione looked like she was about to throw the violin down in frustration, and then must have thought better of it. She ran her fingers back along the piece of music, reminded herself of the correct notes. The violin was picked up again. This time she lasted at least twenty seconds before another dud note. The sheet music was thrown into the air angrily. It seemed almost an oxymoron to him that the pages which had been tossed aside in such anger now floated back to floor level so peaceful; carried by the motes of dust in the air.

Hermione unfolded her long legs from beneath her and stood. She picked up the bow to her violin and Samuel Barber's adagio for strings rang out from her instrument; note perfect, the haunting music sending shivers down Severus' spine.

Feeling a cramp coming on, he shifted slightly. The creaking floorboards at once brought Hermione to a halt, and she tilted her head to the side slightly – eerily similar to Noah, who also had his head tilted, ears pricked, waiting to see what Severus would do next.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Miss Granger."

"Yes?" She looked puzzled.

It took a great deal for him to admit that he needed her help with something. It merely was not in his nature to do so.

"I have you medical records from St Mungo's, and also from the muggle hospital you went to. I was wondering if you would care to help me decipher the muggle jibberish."

Hermione's face lit up, a very different joy to that when she was playing her music. "I would love to!" Her enthusiasm reminded Severus of the eleven year old girl who had plagued his classroom; so eager for approval that she had almost fallen out of her chair on occasion in her desperation to answer his questions. To his astonishment, Severus realised that he missed the old 'know-it-all' Hermione, and after sharing an abode with this melancholy, reformed Hermione, he wouldn't have minded having the old one back after all.

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After Hermione had explained everything to him from the muggle records as fully as she could, and Severus had clarified it with her more than once, he sat back in his chair, thinking hard.

He sat back in his chair, reading over the magical notes once more. Hermione drew her knees up to her chest anxiously, disliking the silence as Severus read. Her face was pointed towards his, and the blank, unseeing eyes that seemed to stare through him sent shivers down Severus' spine.

He frowned. "I was told that the muggle and magical perspectives look at things from different angles, but I hadn't realised the extent of this. Indeed, they appear to be saying entirely different things."

Hermione waited patiently for him to continue, the only sign of her anxiety her drumming fingers on the arm of the chair.

"The muggle records look at the cause of the problem; the magical ones at the possibility of a cure. According to the muggle specialist, the optic nerve was severed, and there is no way of regenerating damaged nerves. According to St Mungo's tests, there is not a potion or spell in existence that can reverse the damage to your sight. I must admit, medi-wizardry does not cover anatomy and histology to the extent that muggle medicine does. Damage to the nervous system is not thought of in such plain terms."

"What do you mean?"

"Take for example, someone who is paralysed. At St Mungo's their injury will not be considered in terms of damage to the central nervous system-" He looked at Hermione here for confirmation that he had got the term right, and Hermione nodded.

"Instead, the root cause of the problem is mostly ignored, and they are analysed to see if the thousands of various magical cures in existence will have an effect."

Severus could see the cogs whirring in her quick mind, and knew that she had thought the same as him.

"Professor Snape, how do you fancy being the first man to attempt to magically regrow an optic nerve?"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Severus sat in front in a tall chair in front of the steel table in his newly renovated laboratory, wearing a white coat and feeling an odd mixture of apprehensive excitement at this new venture, and at the same time like an absolute fool for his optimism.

A sound outside made him look up as the door to the lab opened to reveal Hermione standing there, nervous at being in a room she had not yet learnt to feel her way around.

"Professor?" She addressed the room timidly, unsure where to focus her attention.

"I'm here, Miss Granger. Walk forwards approximately seven steps and you will feel a chair on your right. Sit in it." He said, and Hermione had to muffle her snort of laughter. Nevertheless she carefully counted the seven steps, sinking thankfully into the proffered chair.

"Where is your mutt?" He asked, taken aback by at the absence of the ever-faithful pet. Hermione looked surprised.

"I locked him in my room – I had thought you wouldn't like to have a dog in your lab."

Severus was touched by the thought – he hadn't expected her to be so selfless, considering her own needs.

"Thank you," he said gruffly.

Sensing that he wasn't used to being in a position to thank people, Hermione quickly asked him what he was doing.

"I am dissecting an eye." He announced clinically, gazing down at his still pristine set of dissecting tools. Hermione's mouth fell open.

"Where did you get an eye from?" She gasped.

"Not just an eye, I have the entire body here," he replied impatiently.

Hermione recoiled, and a small squeak escaped from her. At the same time the odd smell in the room was finally making sense; formaldehyde, to preserve the body.

"Well – where did you get the body from?" She uttered when she finally found words.

"St Mungo's Hospital. A number of patients leave their bodies to medical research, and when I requested a body they were more than happy to give me one." Then added, with a slight frown, "Once I had undergone rigorous interviews to prove that I honestly intended to use the body for medical research. Honestly, what else did they think I would want with a body? Necrophilia!"

A loud, unexpected laugh burst from Hermione, and Severus looked pleased at her response – pleased to see her laughing again.

"Well how far have you got?" She asked, when she had recovered herself.

"Actually, I haven't started yet." Severus admitted. Then, angry with himself for letting his guard down with the girl, he snapped, "thanks to you interrupting me."

Hermione quickly smothered the shocked hurt that appeared on her features, schooling her expression into one of neutrality.

"In that case I apologise, and will leave you to it." She said coolly.

Severus wanted desperately to ask for her help in some way, even though he didn't need it. Much as it infuriated him having another invading his home, he had grown accustomed to Hermione's presence and to their cautious alliance. He didn't want to lose that now.

He watched Hermione's retreating back as she shut the door behind her, and cursed his stupid inability to reach out a hand of friendship. Then brushing the thought aside, as he had done for the past four decades, he immersed himself in the book of anatomy before him, and in the fascinating, repulsive human eye.

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Hermione felt bad for having reacted so abruptly to Professor Snape's words. She hadn't expected a man who had spent twenty years friendless and alone to suddenly have a total personality transplant. And truth be told, she didn't want him to change. Yes, it would have been nice to be able to talk to him properly about art and religion and politics, not just about bloody optic nerves! But his quiet constant companionship, and ability to sit in comfortable silence with her and not feel the need to fill it with inane chatter was more than she got from Harry or Ron.

Noah fell on her with joyful whines and licks when she opened her bedroom door to release him.

"You aren't a very professional guide dog." She smiled, groping for her iPod on her bedside table. It was the most muggle contraption she could have found to bring into the house, and she would not give it up for any of the wonders of magic. She had almost cried with joy when her mother had excitedly told her that the apple store were bringing out an iPod that announced the name of the track.

Putting her earphones in, she sat in the hall against her bedroom door, Noah her armrest, and pressed play.

'Pride and Prejudice, Chapter One.' The iPod announced, and Hermione smiled blissfully.

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"Hermione! Hermione!"

Above the dulcet tones of her delicious Mr Darcy, Hermione became aware of someone calling her name. She reluctantly paused the track, tugging the earphones out and wrapping them around the device.

"Hello?"

"Hermione!" Ginny's voice rang out, followed by a soft patter of footsteps up the stairs, and Hermione became aware that Ginny had sat herself down next to her on the floor, and then flung a pair of enthusiastic arms around her neck.

"We've missed you!" She announced. "Harry and Ron tried to visit, but apparently Professor Snape scared them off. I was very surprised when he let me in! How have you been?"

When faced with this question for the first time in quite a while, Hermione was startled to realise how different her attitude had become. Suddenly her loss of sight wasn't the end of the world – there was hope somewhere down the line, and even if nothing came of it, she could live quite comfortably without her vision.

"I'm fine. Things don't seem so bad as they did before. Honestly Gin, I had been close to giving up on living a few months ago."

Ginny bit her lip, not sure what to say in response to that.

"Well I'm glad everything is improving for you." She said, clutching tightly at Hermione's hand.

"How are Ron and Harry?" Hermione asked, missing them suddenly.

"They're both great. Throwing themselves into their studies – even Ron!"

"Describe something to me Ginny!" Hermione implored her, a wild look coming into her normally impassive eyes, and she grabbed Ginny's forearm frantically.

"What?"

"Anything! What does this house look like?"

Understanding, Ginny glanced around her and took in a deep breath before beginning to describe the place Hermione had been living in, and yet had no idea what it looked like. She told her of the high ceilings, the very un-Snape like large windows, making the hall bright and airy. She described the lack of any decoration – only a glass table on which sat a bowl of fresh flowers.

"I smelt the flowers when I came out of my room this morning." Hermione said wistfully, struggling to put together a picture of the hall according to Ginny's description; frustrated when she was left to battle the eternal grey mist.

A door banged below them, and Severus hobbled to the foot of the stairs on his crutches.

He nodded politely at the Ginny. "It is time for lunch, Miss Granger. Will you be staying, Miss Weasley?" He asked politely.

Hermione gaped at him. He hated anyone seeing his disfigurement! What had changed?

"I would love to. Thank you Professor." Ginny replied, and yanked Hermione up from the floor forcefully raising her eyebrows at Hermione in her surprise, and then remembering that she could not see her expression.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Hermione, Severus and Ginny sat in marked silence around the wooden table in the kitchen. Severus gestured to the cold chicken and salad in the centre of the table.

"Help yourself." He said gruffly, acutely aware of the glances Ginny kept casting his way under her long lashes. It was the first time she had had the opportunity to truly look at him, to take in the horrific profile of his horribly scarred head, the twisted lump of flesh that was the remainder of his ear. His hair had never grown back on the injured side of his head, and the rest was cropped close to his skull, emphasising his gaunt appearance, and shadowed eyes.

"Professor – there are potions for hair growth that will work despite the scarring."

He raised an eyebrow at Ginny, surprised at her nerve. There weren't many who would have the guts to comment on his appearance.

"I am well aware of that, thank you Miss Weasley." His tone was cool and curt, and he raised an eyebrow as if daring her to say more. Ginny merely shrugged, helping herself to a leg of chicken.

An owl rapped sharply on the window, making Ginny jump. Whilst Severus was still struggling to his feet, Hermione was up in a flash, automatically moving around the table to the window and opening it for the beady-eyed bird. Without asking Severus heaped salad and chicken onto Hermione's plate, and she nodded at him in thanks as she sat back down.

Ginny observed their interaction in silence. It was oddly heart wrenching and moving to watch the pair, bound by their afflictions, now surviving together.

"How is your research going?" She asked Severus, finding the silence horribly uncomfortable.

"It's going slowly." He replied, finding this Weasley by far the least annoying of the clan. "I have been reading up on muggle neurology, and dabbling in dissection of the eye. Fascinating stuff really, but of little use so far."

Hermione perked up, suddenly interested. "Neurology? I did a bit of light reading on the subject last year – my cousin is a doctor, so I borrowed one of her old books."

Severus guffawed, and Ginny's head swivelled round to look at him in surprise, not expecting to hear any form of laughter from him.

"Light reading, Miss Granger?"

Hermione grinned, turning her unnervingly blank gaze onto him. "Well – perhaps not what most would consider light. But if you have any questions I may be able to help, or if not I can pass them on to my cousin."

Severus looked thoughtful.

"Would you ask her about cyclins and cyclin-dependent-kinases? I understand that neurons are incapable of replicating, but perhaps a combination of potions and the right chemicals for mitosis could be used to regenerate the optic nerve."

Hermione nodded, not letting herself get her hopes up. She had heard too many suggestions to think that this one would be better. Better not to hope, and then she wouldn't be disappointed.

Ginny squeezed Hermione's hand under the table.

"I didn't understand a word of that," she muttered, "but anything is better than nothing! Don't give up yet."

Hermione nodded, her eyes suddenly filling with tears which she blinked away swiftly. It was easier to approach things from a clinical point of view, facing the reality of her situation and what Severus was doing was something that she avoided. It wouldn't do to get emotionally involved – she found that it invariably led to disappointment.

"How is Mr Weasley?" Severus asked, sensing that the subject needed to be changed.

"George?" Ginny guessed correctly. "He is doing alright, taking each day one step at a time. But it's like a part of him is missing. He says that there is a hole now that can never be filled. Sometimes he wakes up at night and calls out for Fred." Ginny shrugged unhappily. "And then Mum hears him, and cries. She spends most of her time crying now." Ginny pressed her lips together, conscious that she had said too much.

Severus observed the redhead keenly. She had gone very pale, and was prodding her food dejectedly with her fork. She clearly had kept her emotions bottled up for far too long, her brother's death affected her just as much as it did his twin and his mother.

"I have – " Ginny suddenly stopped midsentence, shaking her head. "Never mind."

"You are welcome to stay here the odd night with Miss Granger if your family home becomes too much for you." Severus said, the words falling out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. He pursed his lips together. Miss Granger was clearly having a bad effect on him if this was the outcome.

Ginny and Hermione both looked taken aback.

"Thank you, but I wouldn't want to impose." Ginny said politely. She pushed her food around her plate a little more, and Hermione laid down her cutlery, neither of them having much of an appetite.

"Come upstairs with me." Ginny tugged at Hermione's sleeve, pulling her to her feet.

In the safety of Hermione's room, Ginny blurted out what she had almost confessed to at lunch.

"I've been summoning Fred's spirit from the afterlife."

"What?" Hermione was certain she had heard wrong – there was no way that Ginny would get caught up in something so dangerous, or so stupid. Not to mention illegal.

"I broke into the restricted section and found the spell. I talk to him every day now. Do you want to see him – do you want to see Fred, Hermione?" Ginny's voice suddenly lit up with hopefulness, her addiction to what she was doing taking her over.

"Ginny we need to talk about this. I really don't think it's a good idea, you need help. This is blood-magic, it's dark magic, Gin!"

Ginny ignored her, pulling out her wand and getting to her feet. She started the incantation, and Hermione froze, none of her limbs working despite her brain desperately commanding her to get out of there. Noah howled fearfully, and an icy hand clutched at Hermione's heart.

"Gin?" The sound of Fred's voice had Hermione's breath catch in her throat, and she had never wanted so much to be able to see again.

"Gin, this has to stop. I can't move on if you keep calling me back here." He sounded more serious than Hermione had ever heard him.

"But Fred look! Hermione's here."

"I'm sorry about what happened," and Hermione knew that this was addressed to her. "Madam Pomfrey is here. She says for you to keep an eye on Snape. Professor Snape." He quickly corrected, and Hermione could imagine Madam Pomfrey correcting him, wherever they were.

"Ginny, you have to leave me now, this must be the last time you call me back."

Ginny sobbed. "You can't leave me! Please, come back!"

A tear trickled down Hermione's cheek at Ginny's words, and there was nothing she could say to make it better, or to fix what had happened.

The door to Hermione's room was flung open, and Severus took in the scene before him in astonishment, fury radiating from him. Noah ran from the room and downstairs, his usual reliable self reduced to a jittery, howling mess.

Hermione was backed against one wall, trembling violently. Ginny was on her knees, tears pouring down her face. In the centre of the room stood Fred – except he wasn't. He appeared almost solid – more human than the ghosts of Hogwarts would ever look. But he appeared as though he was fading away, clearly not belonging in the human world any longer.

Severus pulled out his wand. "This séance is over," he snarled.

"Tell George I love him." Fred called to Ginny, and then looked at Professor Snape. "Thank you Professor."

It took just a flick of Severus' wand, and then Fred was gone.

"How did you know?" Ginny gasped, now looking haggard, her skin grey in colour.

"I can sense dark magic in my home. And your magic was at the end of the spectrum, Miss Weasley." Ginny was shaking now, and Severus resisted the urge to shout at her.

"Go down to the kitchen and make yourself a cup of tea. There is chocolate in the cupboard." He instructed Ginny, and she got up shakily and left the room. Hermione slid down the wall to the floor.

"Miss Granger?" Severus leant his crutches against the wall, and sat in front of her, anxious when he didn't get an answer. "Hermione?"

She turned her head slightly to face him, her teeth chattering furiously.

"Why I do I feel like this?" She stammered through her chattering teeth, her entire body now shaking. Severus pulled the blanket from her bed and wrapped it around her slim body. She clutched at his shirt wildly, suddenly afraid.

"What's happening to me?"

"The reason the magic that Miss Weasley was using is considered to be one of the darkest is because it draws on the magic of others." He explained. "To bring a being over from the spiritual realm sucks the magic from humans in the area. And as Miss Weasley was presumably already weak from performing this spell, that magic was drained from you."

"Will it come back?" Hermione gasped.

"It will come back. You will be weak for the next few hours, and I wouldn't advise casting any spell until tomorrow at the earliest. But you will be fine."

With no idea why he was doing what he was doing, Severus shifted to sit back against the wall next to his shivering ex-student, and tentatively wrapped one arm around her, letting her head sink to his shoulder. They stayed like that for a long time, long after Hermione had stopped shaking.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Still sitting with his strong arms enveloping Hermione, Severus forgot to feel uncomfortable, as his distorted face twisted into a frown and he dwelled on the scene he had interrupted. Clearly Miss Weasley was one of the worst affected by the war, but there must be many more students also suffering with no one noticing.

When Hermione's breathing evened out and it was clear that she had fallen asleep he carefully levitated her on to her bed, then swung himself to standing with a grimace. However useful crutches were, they could never be graceful.

Ginny was passed out, her head resting on the kitchen table, an uneaten slab of Honeydukes' chocolate in her clenched hand. Leaving her where she was, Severus scribbled a quick note and tossed it into the blazing fire in the library.

Several long minutes later Minerva climbed out of the fire, brushing soot from her cloak and eyeing Severus with curious amusement.

"You summoned me?" she said drily.

"Sit." He nodded at the chair facing his, wondering self-consciously whether she was hiding her repulsion for his appearance or if she was one of the few who saw past it.

He explained to Minerva the situation he had interrupted in Hermione's room. Her expression grew more serious as the story unravelled, and when he had finished the pair sat in troubled silence.

"Despite not being a teacher any longer, may I offer a suggestion." He said, his words quiet and hesitant.

Minerva blinked at him in surprise. Had he just asked permission to make a suggestion?

"Certainly," she replied, suddenly aware that she was gaping at him.

"There must be many other students in a similar frame of mind to Miss Weasley. Hogwarts needs to keep a closer eye on students affected – perhaps offer some form of counselling service."

Minerva nodded, surprised that she nor anyone else had thought of it before. "I will see to it as soon as I go back."

"And perhaps a quiet word to Arthur Weasley about his daughter's situation."

Minerva nodded once more, the surprise clearly showing on her lined face. Hermione must have had a calming influence on the furious, aggressive shell of a man that had once roared for her and 'every other busybody' to stay out of his life. She missed his dry wit and constant, comforting presence in the teachers' lounge.

"I will make sure to do so, when I return Miss Weasley there. Now, how is Hermione?" She asked, anxious about the health of her former student.

"She is sleeping at the moment. I won't let her use her wand until this time tomorrow at the earliest."

Minerva snorted. "Because she uses her wand so much anyway."

Severus frowned. How had he let himself slide from being a spy for Dumbledore, to now not noticing something as glaring obvious as this. "What do you mean?"

"Severus, I am as clueless as you are. I would assume it has something to do with her attempt to shun the wizarding world."

The haunting melodies so often heard suddenly floated down from the attic.

"Is that Hermione playing?"

"It means she has having a bad day." And Minerva's confusion, he continued, "when she has headaches, or can't remember periods of the day, she will lock herself away with her instrument and not appear for hours at a time."

Minerva produced a large book from her even larger handbag and handed it over. "I got this for you from a muggle bookshop. It is a medical student neuroanatomy book, I thought it might simplify things for you."

Severus nodded his thanks, and Minerva got to her feet. "I will take Miss Weasley to the Burrow and speak to Arthur now. Thank you for everything you have done."

Severus fingered the cover of the shiny new book, and then opened it to Chapter Two: Cells of the Nervous System.

* * *

When Hermione entered the library many hours later Severus was scribbling madly in his notes, the book open in his lap. It was dark by this time, and a now cold plate of untouched food sat on the table next to him.

He looked up. "Hermione, take a seat."

Hermione's face brightened at the use of her first name, although she did not comment on the sudden change.

"I have made some progress I think." He flicked back through his notes, his rough voice brightening in his obvious excitement. "What do you know of glial cells?" At her blank look he explained himself.

"Neurones are the nerve cells which conduct electrical impulses, glia are the remaining cells in the nervous system, with a number of functions. In the peripheral nervous system damaged nervous cells can be repaired. They de-differentiate to immature Schwann cells, which support regrowth of nerve cells. This is due to growth promoting molecules, myelin breakdown, and formation of bands of Bugner. It is called Wallerian degeneration."

If Hermione did not understand she did not say anything, her face lit up with rapt attention.

"The problem with cells in the brain – in your case the optic nerve, the opposite occurs. Growth inhibitory molecules are expressed, there is slow myelin breakdown and a glial scar forms"

"What does this mean for me?" She asked nervously.

"It means I can combine muggle science with magic, and hopefully find a way to apply what happens to peripheral nerves, to your optic nerve."

Hermione's face lit up, and she lurched at him, throwing her arms around the stunned Professor and hugging him tightly. He sat stiffly for a moment, and then one arm tentatively held her to him, before he told her gruffly to have some decorum.

Hermione laughed at him. "Professor you should take a break now, you sound exhausted. Will you accompany me on a stroll around you grounds? Noah needs some exercise."

Severus flushed, and he stumbled over his next words. "My leg will not tolerate long distances, Hermione."

"Perhaps it is time you stopped working on my injury, and let St Mungo's sort that out for you." He stared at her, biting back the angry reply that had sprung to his lips and taking a moment to let his quick temper subside.

"Hermione. The only person I ever let near my injuries was Poppy Pomfrey, I do not want some stranger getting involved. Besides, why do I deserve it. I am fine as I am."

"Why do I deserve my sight?" Hermione stretched with feline agility and got to her feet gracefully, silently leading Noah from the room. Severus watched her quietly, an odd expression clouding his dark eyes.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Severus glared down through the library window at the sight of Hermione and Noah walking side by side in his grounds. He envied her the use of her legs, her untouched face. And he was overwhelmingly angry with himself for daring to be jealous of the beautiful blind girl below him.

She stumbled slightly, clutching Noah for support and Severus frowned. Had she tripped over something? No, there was only freshly cut grass beneath her feet. She stumbled again, and then her legs gave way as she seemed to fall in slow motion to the ground, her body curving in a graceful arc as Noah barked frantically for help.

Severus stood frozen for several long seconds, waiting for her to get back up. When she didn't move he took two painfully slow and wobbly steps towards the door. Cursing his stupidity he disapparated, and reappeared at Hermione's side.

He knelt next to her awkwardly, wondering inwardly how many times it was possible to curse his missing legs in the space of a few hours. He curled an arm under her neck, lifting her blank face to him.

"Miss Granger? Hermione – can you hear me?"

She murmured something unintelligible, her hand clutching at the expansive material of his robes.

"Enough is enough – I'm taking you to St Mungo's."

"No!" She seemed to rouse herself enough to emphatically refuse to go to hospital, and after his own time in St Mungo's Severus more than understood her desire never to return there. Apparating her to lie on her bed, Severus settled himself in the chair next to her.

"I'm fine!" She insisted, groping for Severus' robes, not liking not knowing where he was. "I just felt dizzy for a moment, it's from the head trauma that night. It was bound to have other lasting repercussions."

Severus cast a critical eye over Hermione, his keen eyes taking the time to drink in her emaciated appearance.

"Hermione, be reasonable. You're getting headaches and memory loss. You just fainted, and look at you! You are wasting away!"

Hermione flushed angrily and pulled the blankets up to her neck. "'Look at me'? And how do you expect me to do that?"

Severus hesitated, his words dying on his tongue as he realised what he had said. Reading his silence as something different, Hermione continued.

"And why should I take medical advice from an embittered old man who can't even walk?"

Severus stood up abruptly, storming from the room on his crutches. The dramatic exit, he mused, would be much more effective on two legs and with a slammed door. He guffawed loudly, his quick temper gone as suddenly as it had come.

_If_ _she insists on being an obstinate fool, so be it. I will not let myself fall into the same abyss_. His thoughts slightly more clear on what he had to door, Severus smiled a grim smile, for the first time letting himself consider the options open to him.

A crash came from behind Hermione's door as she threw a heavy tome at it in anger, and he flinched.

"Who is he to tell me what to do? Infuriating old bat!"

The words which would once have caused him to glower and take house points now made Severus chuckle dryly. _If she wants my help she has to help herself first. And I'll be damned if I don't get there first._

* * *

At St Mungo's, the healers who had treated Severus the first time were astounded when he appeared out of the blue.

"I would like to see a mediwitch about a prosthetic leg." He said sharply to the plump girl at the department reception desk, casting a quick eye around to see who was in the vicinity.

"Professor Snape, Sir, I am sorry but you do not have an appointment."

He glared at the receptionist – a formed student of his – resisting the temptation to thrust his wand into her chubby neck and threaten her within an inch of her life. She visibly wilted under his gaze.

"Perhaps we can fit you in after all Sir."

"That would be advisable." He said icily, wondering how an earth an ex-student could still be so intimidated by him. She must have been a Hufflepuff, he decided derisively.

Taking a seat, Severus waited close to twenty minutes to see someone, coming close more than once to giving up on the idea altogether and returning home.

"Professor Snape? Healer Bruce will see you now." Nodding at the idiot behind the desk with as much civility as he could muster, Severus swung himself to standing with the aid of his crutches, and went through to the consultation room.

He vaguely remembered Michael Bruce as one of original healers after the accident. He was a pleasant man – an ex-Ravenclaw who had not be altogether hopeless. Bruce gestured for him to sit and Severus complied.

"I hear you want a leg, Professor."

Cut right to the chase, no silly small talk. Severus approved of him already.

"Yes. Cost is no issue, I want the best you have and I want it immediately."

Bruce smothered a smile at the familiarity of Snape's tone. "Why don't I take a look at your leg and I can explain how it will work. I'm afraid you won't be walking out of here on two legs, Professor Snape. It will take a lot of hard work and perseverance."

Severus grunted in response, and let Bruce unpin the trouser leg and push it up to examine the stump.

"It has healed very nicely, I am most pleased." Severus snorted. He wouldn't call the hideous remains masquerading as his leg pleasing in any way. Bruce went on to explain how the prosthetic would work. It would be charmed to look exactly like his own flesh, and would be attached to his leg with magic, only the faintest line demarcating between skin and plastic. To ensure the best fit and best appearance, the tissue at the base of his leg would be burned away, removing all the raised scar tissue that had formed. Once on, it could never be removed. However, it would take months of practise to learn to walk normally on it, and he would continue to need his crutches for the foreseeable future.

Severus frowned. He had envisioned walking out of the hospital on two legs, smugly imagined the look on Minerva's face, her utmost surprise.

"Fine. Do it."

"I have some forms for you to sign, and a prosthetic limb for you to look at and feel first if you like."

Severus scrawled his illegible signature at the bottom of the forms, then grasped the plastic leg. It was heavier than he had expected – he supposed it was the weight of a real limb. It was more unnerving than he has expected it to be – holding what he knew was plastic, but looked and felt so real.

"What about leg hair?" He asked, his voice cracking on the ridiculous question. Bruce did not seem to think it ridiculous at all.

"If you would allow me to see your other leg I can ensure that this leg matches perfectly."

Severus rolled up his other trouser leg, revealing a leg so white that it rivalled the walls of the bland room, and muscles well-defined from months of supporting his entire body weight. Bruce waved his wand, and the leg in Severus' hands shorted, to fit just below his kneecap. It paled considerably, the muscle bulk growing.

He ran a cautious hand over the enlarged muscles – but it was still just smooth plastic beneath his fingers.

Unexpectedly, Bruce ran a gentle, exploratory hand over the scar tissue stretched across his face, and Severus jolted so fast that Bruce nearly lost his balance.

"Do not touch me." He hissed, and apprehension flitted across Bruce's face as he struggled to regain his composure. Keeping his temper under control, Severus swiftly asked when the leg would be attached.

"It will take approximately ninety minutes, and you will be unconscious for it. Burning away the old flesh is not a nice experience, and you will suffer some pain when recovering. I can fit you in tomorrow morning, nine o' clock sharp."

"Tomorrow morning is suitable."

"Excellent. Do not eat anything for twelve hours beforehand, and drink only water. The surgery will finish around ten-thirty should everything run on time, and you should be able to leave mid-afternoon. Is there someone who can take you home afterwards?"

Severus regarded him coolly, and Bruce smiled brightly.

"Very well, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Healer Marcus Kent will be leading, and I will be assisting. Goodbye Professor."

Severus shook the proffered hand, and disapparated abruptly with a pop.

* * *

Minerva was more than a little surprised when Severus' patronus soared through her open window, demanding that she let him in. A flick of her wand and he was standing in front of her.

He reddened, opening his mouth to abuse her action.

"Severus be quiet. For once let someone help you instead of hobbling up the grounds like a cripple. What can I do for you?"

His anger subsiding, Severus briefly and emotionlessly explained what he had just done. When he had finished Minerva stared at him in astonishment.

"I will be out of surgery at half past ten, and I was wondering if you would come to St Mungo's in the afternoon if you are free to help me home." His words were gruff, his voice hoarse and afraid of rejection.

Minerva could only nod her head, afraid to speak and let her happiness for him pour out.

"Thank you," he said softly, his gratitude showing in his eyes. "Don't tell Hermione, I don't want her to find out until I can walk properly with just a stick and not these infernal crutches. Would you mind apparating me out of here and home?"

At home, Severus knocked on Hermione's door and told her that he would be out most of the following day with business to attend to. Still scowling and with dried tear tracks down her cheeks, Hermione acknowledged him and then rolled over to face the wall – effectively dismissing him.

* * *

With a feeling of excited apprehension, the next morning Severus bid a still subdued Hermione goodbye, and left for St Mungo's. He was rushed into the operating wing of the hospital, and helped into a hospital gown at such fast a pace he did have time to protest or take in what was happening.

Severus lay down on the bed awkwardly, and Healer Bruce appeared with an unfamiliar older man. Healer Kent introduced himself, and Severus thanked all the Gods that the man operating on him was not a former dunderhead student of his.

"We will stupefy you, and then administer a more long-acting general anaesthetic. All set, Professor?"

Severus nodded, afraid to speak and show the nerves that threatened to overcome him. The last thing he remembered was a flash of red light, and then everything went dark.

When he came to, the first thing Severus was aware of was the intense pain in his leg. He tried to move it, but his leg felt leaden and the pain grew with every tiny shift.

"How are you feeling?" He was surprised to see Minerva at his bedside.

"What are you doing here?" He rasped, reaching for the water at his bedside to soothe his dry throat.

"Did you think I would leave you here by yourself?" She scolded. "And I brought you some food – I don't trust the hospital rubbish."

Severus smiled his twisted smile – and Minerva wondered cynically whether there had been any point in his getting a new leg if he refused to let anyone near his face and wouldn't go out in public. Brushing the thought aside, she reached for his hand and clutched it tightly.

Healer Kent came in to check on his patient. "Ah, you're awake. Excellent. It is almost eleven now, you took a while to come round from the anaesthetic. How do you feel?"

Severus grimaced. "I've had worse pain," he said.

Kent nodded. "Well press the button for extra morphine should you need it. Would you like to see your new leg?"

Without waiting for an answer he pulled back the covers of Severus' bed, and Severus eagerly pushed himself to an awkward sitting position. A visibly paling red line marked the boundary between skin and plastic. The prosthetic perfectly matched his real leg, so real looking that it was hard to imagine ever not having a leg. He tried to wriggle his toes, but the plastic would not do anything. It was a horrible feeling – almost claustrophobic, having this cumbersome synthetic attached to him, not able to control it.

"You will soon get used to it." Kent reassured Severus, pulling the covers back up. Severus nodded, taking in a deep breath to calm himself. "I'll leave you to recover and provided all is well you can be out of here by three."

Kent left, and soon Severus and Minerva were chatting like old times, the horrors of the final year of the war and the accident all but forgotten


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

The battle to regain his old motility was a long, uphill struggle of constant pain and intense physiotherapy. But after a month of hard work, both Severus and Minerva could see the difference begin to show. Hermione remained as aloof as ever, confining herself to her bedroom day and night, only to levitate an indignant Noah out the window twice a day for a run around and to do his business.

Another month passed, and Hermione had not touched either the piano, or her violin. Severus, meanwhile, had progressed from his crutches to a walking stick.

"Is it normal for an amputee to progress so quickly?" Minerva enquired, as she sat at Severus' kitchen table with him drinking tea. The first time she had visited, he had been severely admonished for daring to serve her tea in a mug. He had learnt his lesson after that. Only a cup and saucer would do!

Severus took a sip of his tea, and glanced down with pride at his walking stick before answering.

"Not for muggles, no. However the magic way of attaching the prosthetic greatly speeded things up. Although of course the rest of the work has been the hard way."

"May I ask you a question? As a friend."

Severus frowned. "That was a question."

"Don't be pedantic." Her Scottish accent grew more pronounced as she clucked her tongue in frustration. "Severus, what you are doing is admirable, but was there a point to it if you refuse to leave the house and rejoin the general public?"

"I left the house two days ago!" He retorted, and Minerva rolled her eyes.

"Appearing in my office and dictating how the school should be run does not count as appearing in public."

Severus poured himself some more tea, stirring in the milk slowly, his clear attempt to keep his vicious temper under control a stark contrast to only months previously when it had taken less than that for him to explode at Minerva.

His leg was not for the general public. It was for him; to enable him to have a good quality of life, at peace in his secluded manor. Able to stroll the grounds, able to take in the blue skies and the flowers, and the birds nesting in the trees that bordered his grounds.

Minerva's expression softened as he explained this stiffly, his shoulders tense.

"Hermione brought this realisation on?" She said quietly, but it was not a question. "Will you miss her company when she leaves?"

"The only way she will leave this house is in a coffin." He bit back sharply. "She barely eats, she doesn't get out of bed, and she has no interest in living anymore."

Minerva's eyes narrowed, her quick mind at work although she did not say anything.

"And how is your research coming along?"

"Quite well, surprisingly." Severus flicked his wand and summoned his notes from the lab. They spread themselves out neatly on the table. Minerva cast an educated eye over Hermione's scans, then turned her gaze to the pages of untidy scrawl. Severus explained in plain terms that the reason for Hermione's blindness in both eyes was that the optic chiasm, the place in which both optic nerves fused, had been completely destroyed. He had created a potion which, combined with a number of human growth promoting molecules, would successfully cause the regrowth of the chiasm, and then of the two optic tracts which led to each eye.

Minerva spent several long minutes going over the intricate potion, which would take ten solid days of brewing to complete.

"You are sure this will work?" She asked at last. He nodded his head affirmatively.

"Yes, I have acquired more than one cadaver to test on, and have severed the chiasma in each one and experimented. There is no doubt that it works."

Minerva clutched at Severus excitedly.

"Why have you not told her? This is fantastic news! When can the potion be ready for her to use?"

"Minerva – " he interrupted, his expression unreadable. He gathered the notes into a tidy pile and banished them back to his lab. Then he sat very still, the only movement his fingers drumming nervously on the kitchen table. "The potion will not work by ingestion. It must be applied to the affected area directly."

Minerva's face suddenly mirrored his own. "Oh. I see."

She struggled for the response appropriate to receiving such good news only to be followed be such a swift downturn in luck. She paused for a long moment.

"Surgery?" She asked hesitantly.

Severus stood up swiftly, grasping his cane and moving with some difficulty still. "Come upstairs with me," he instructed. "That sort of surgery could kill her. And when you see how she looks you will realise that she is very ill. She would not survive."

Gravely, the pair made their way upstairs and knocked softly on Hermione's door.

"Leave me alone."

The hoarse, weak voice startled Minerva, although she did not let it show. She approached the situation with her best, no-nonsense attitude.

"Miss Granger, it is Professor McGonagall. I am coming in." Hermione's weak locking-spell was no match for the older woman, and the door burst open.

Hermione cringed away from the noise, bringing a hand up to her head. "I said to go away!" She roared, her voice showing a little more life now.

"Stupefy." The flash of red from Minerva's wand silenced Hermione, freezing her in position. Her next spell was to send a swift patronus soaring through the open window to Hogwarts.

"I hope you don't mind Severus, but I have asked our new medi-witch to come take a look. This was the easiest way."

Far from looking angry at her liberty, Severus was reluctantly impressed at Minerva's Slytherin-cunning.

"I never thought you had it in you." He said admiringly. A loud pop marked the arrival of the healer, and Severus was startled to see Molly Weasley's flaming hair and sharp brown eyes.

"Good to see you Severus," she said briskly, taking in his look of surprise. "I assume you did not know I was the new medi-witch, I was only appointed a month ago. I trained before I married Arthur, but gave it up once Percy was born – three children and a full time job were too much. And then once the twins arrived I had no time to concentrate on anything except being a full-time mother."

He had not expected her life story cut down to two sentences, nor the calmness and professionalism which the job had brought to her demeanour. The appointment as medi-witch had clearly been exactly what she had needed to start to move on with her life after the loss of her son.

Molly turned to her patient, and her eyes filled with tears and the sight of her almost-daughter in such a state. Hermione was so skeletal she looked like a concentration-camp survivor, her bones jutting sharply from his paper-like skin. Bruise-like shadows encircled her eyes, and her hair was brittle and unkempt. Noah was in a similarly bad-state, although that was the doing of his owner. He was far too thin, and his coat was knotted and tangled.

Minerva summoned a bowl of dog food from the kitchen, and Noah wolfed it down eagerly, his tail up for the first time in weeks. She dropped to her arthritic knees, preferring to pet the dog than to see Molly's examination of Hermione.

"She is rundown and has been starving herself. That much is obvious. However I think there is more to it. Has she had any scans recently?"

"None since she was discharged from hospital after the accident. Why, what is it?" Concern clouded Severus' features.

"She needs an urgent scan, I will arrange it with St Mungo's for today if possible."

"For what?" Severus bellowed, now fearful for the girl who had managed to worm her way under his skin.

"For a tumour."

Severus fell silent.

"Arrange the scan, please." Minerva said, her voice full of defeat.


End file.
